Tag

Was cruising through some of the blogs I like to read a few moments ago, and in one of them someone had posted one of those tag things where it asks you to:

1. Grab the book closest to you.
2. Open to page 123, go down to the fifth sentence.
3. Post the text of the next 3 sentences on your blog.
It only has 101 pages. The last page is one paragraph. It so happens to be beautiful, so I'll post the whole thing (C'mon, I could not leave out that last sentence!):

What reconciles me to my own death more than anything else is the image of a place: a place where your bones and mine are buried, thrown, uncovered, together. They are strewn there pell-mell. One of your ribs leans against my skull. A metacarpal of my left hand lies inside your pelvis. (Against my broken ribs your breast like a flower.) The hundred bones of our feet are scattered like gravel. It is strange that this image of our proximity, concerning as it does mere phosphate of calcium, should bestow a sense of peace. Yet it does. With you I can imagine a place where to be phosphate of calcium is enough.


4. Name of the book and the author
And Our Faces, My Heart, Brief as Photos
by John Berger
5. Tag three people.

At least three of you that read this have your own blogs... so, tag, you're it!